


Baby Crazy

by orphan_account



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You have a moral duty to go!” Shinra says, four months later.“Huh? It’s not my child, why should I?”“Well of course it’s not yours,” Shinra says, “but then where did Izaya get a kid?”“Shit.”A series of snapshots.





	Baby Crazy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Max](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Max/gifts).



“Orihara,” Namie says one morning, “not that I care, but why are you pretending to vomit every half hour?”

“I’m not pretending, Namie, I really am. It’s morning sickness.” 

Namie raises a thin eyebrow. “You’ve been pretending to vomit every half hour, on the dot. Nobody would believe it’s a real illness.” 

“Not that kind of morning sickness. I thought you were a doctor?”

“Well, you can’t be pregnant.”

Izaya smirks.

 

“Informant-san, may I ask why you’re dressed like that?”

Izaya crosses his legs easily in front of him. “It’s maternity wear. I’m pregnant. Surely you’ve seen it before? You do have two children, after all.”

“Informant-san…”

“Yes, Shiki-san?”

“Do you  _ really _ expect anyone to believe that you’re pregnant?”

 

“Izaya,” Shinra chirps happily. “It’s nice to see you! And your basketball! Why’s it under your shirt? Is it cold?”

“No, I’m pregnant.”

“How nice! Do you want some tea? How about your basketball?”

“I said it wasn’t a basketball.” 

 

“What the fuck,” Shizuo says. “What the  _ fuck.” _

“So the rumors  _ are  _ true,” Shinra says, really far too happily. “You and Izaya really are—”

“No.”

“Then why would he be saying he’s pregnant?”

“He’s probably got something up his fucking sleeve, the fucking flea.” Shizuo pauses, something occurring to him. “Wait, I always thought Izaya, was you, know…”

“Equipped with a penis?” Shinra says. “Oh, he is.”

“Then why is he saying he’s pregnant? With  _ my  _ kid?”

“Well, he probably thinks your knowledge of human anatomy is spotty.” Shinra adjusts his glasses. “I know  _ I’m _ surprised. No, wait, please put down the table—”

 

“You have a moral duty to go!” Shinra says, four months later.

“Huh? It’s not my child, why should I?”

“Well of course it’s not yours,” Shinra says, “but then where did Izaya get a kid?”

_ “Shit.” _

 

There is, as a matter of fact, a baby.

“Oh my fucking god.” 

“Language,” Izaya chides, moving to cover the baby’s ears. 

“Where did you get a baby?” Shizuo demands.

Izaya raises an eyebrow. “Well, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much—”

“Cut the crap, I had the same sex ed you did. I know how babies are made.”

“Then you have to know that when our lips brushed that fateful encounter nine months ago—”

“Actually, apparently I had better sex ed than you did. Do you want me to explain to you how babies are made?”

“I know how babies are made,” Izaya says, holding up a newborn. “I even made one.”

“Alright,” Shizuo says, sitting on a couch. “So the beginning steps of baby making are when an erect penis enters the vagina—”

“Please don’t.” 

Shizuo continues, undaunted. Izaya stares at him, mouth agape. 

“Wow,” Izaya says eventually. “You know more about human anatomy than I thought you did. Also, you’ve just traumatized our child, congratulations.”

“I literally just—”

“Oh no,” Izaya says, standing up suddenly and shoving the baby into Shizuo’s arms. “Someone’s got a poopy diaper! Let’s let the master of anatomy take care of it!”

“How do you—”

“Diapers are in the bag over there.”

Shizuo stares at the baby. The baby farts.

The first step seems to be removing the dirty diaper. Which is, as a matter of fact, full of crud.

“What do I do with this?” Shizuo calls to Izaya. 

“Throw it away? Unless you want to use it as a face mask or something.”

“That’s disgusting.”

The next step would be cleaning the baby off, right? He rinses the baby butt off in the sink, drying it with a few paper towels.

“Why do I hear water running?”

“I’m cleaning the baby.”

The next step is putting diapers on it, right? They look like they wrap around the baby, except—

“Hey, can I use a stapler?”

“What do you need a stapler for?” come the annoyed response.

“To keep the diaper shut.”

“They come with sticky tabs.” There’s the sound of a chair being pushed away from a desk. 

“I didn’t see any sticky tabs in the bag.”

“That’s because they’re attached to the diaper.” Izaya is standing in the kitchen with him. “Have you never changed a diaper before?” 

“No,” Shizuo says, annoyed. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Silly me. I thought you might have  _ real life experience _ .” 

“I do have real life experience. Just not with  _ this.”  _ Shizuo flaps his hand to encompass the whole child.

_ “Obviously,”  _ Izaya says, grabbing the baby and flipping the diaper over. His movements are practiced and quick, clearly  _ he’s  _ done this before. “And you’re going to clean my sink, if you’re going to put feces in it.” 

“Well, how else was I supposed to clean him?”

“Oh, I don’t know, with wipes?”

“What the hell? There are wipes?”

“Yes,” Izaya says slowly. “Specifically designed with babies in mind.” 

“How was  _ I  _ supposed to know that? Where are you going? Don’t laugh at me, you fuck!”

 

“Here, hold your child,” Izaya says, shoving the baby into Shizuo’s arms. 

“I can’t do this.”

“You’re already doing it.”

“I’m going to break it.”

“You’re not going to break it,” Izaya reassures him. “Baby bones are hard to break. At most, you’ll just crush the life out of it. Like you’re doing right now. Don’t do that.”

 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing with the baby,” Shizuo says, though it should be rather obvious. He’s waving a rattle about and everything. What else would he be doing?

“Try not to hit him with the rattle, yes? It’s for making sounds not clubbing things to death.”

 

“I’m staying,” Shizuo declares. “You’re just going to ruin him.”

“Oh, clearly,” Izaya says, not looking up from his monitor. “Because I’m the one that almost killed him three times today.”

 

Babies smell weird. A little bit like sour milk and a lot like baby powder. But they’re really warm. Surprisingly so. This one is sleeping on Shizuo’s chest, sprawled out with his head over Shizuo’s chest to listen to his heart beat.

He feels  _ chosen.  _ He can’t move, even though he really has to pee. Can’t disturb the baby.

He hears a faint clicking sound, sees Izaya standing there, phone in hand. 

“These are the memories that are going to last a lifetime. No, try to look a little less murderous, Shizu-chan.” 

 

“I’m hungry.”

“What? You barge in and expect me to feed you? If you want something, get it yourself.”

“ _ You  _ were the one telling anyone who would listen that you  _ gave birth to my child!” _

_ “ _ How is that supposed to make you less hungry, Shizu-chan, I don’t see it.”

 

“Why’s it  _ crying?” _

“I don’t know, Shizu-chan, sometimes babies just do that.” 

“Give him here,” Shizuo takes Baby from Izaya. It stops immediately, making cooing noises instead. 

“Traitor.”

 

“It’s going to grow up maladjusted if you keep sleeping there,” Izaya says, standing over the couch.

“It’s not. I’m going to return it to it’s rightful parents.” Shizuo turns over irritably on the couch.

“It’s going to go, ‘why do mommy and daddy not share a bed?’”

“It’s going to be traumatized by being called ‘it.’”

“Touche.”

 

Shizuo  _ tries  _ to sort through missing persons reports, he really does. The problem is that ‘baby with black hair and brown eyes’ isn’t exactly uncommon in Japan. And all newborns look the same, with the same squished faces and irritated expressions. 

Eventually, he just tries hacking into Izaya’s computer using the password:  _ shizuosucksdick.  _

There’s a single file in the center of the desktops entitled: “operation baby” containing exactly two things: a scan of a birth certificate with his and Izaya’s names listed under the parent’s sections and a text file with the words: ‘how stupid do you think I am, Shizu-chan?’

 

Shizuo and Baby are left alone while Izaya goes out to run some ‘errands.’

“Uh-huh,” Shizuo says. 

“It might be dangerous!”

“That’s nice.”

“I might be a corpse this time tomorrow.”

“That’s interesting.” 

“I’m bringing a gun!”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” 

“I feel like our marriage is in shambles.”

“That’s because you don’t put out anymore.”

The sound of a door closing spells victory. 

 

Instead of becoming a corpse, Izaya comes back at around ten that night, when Baby is safely asleep in his crib and Shizuo is watching a soap opera on TV.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya throws the door open to the flat. “I’m home!”

“That’s nice.” 

Izaya walks in front of the TV. 

“I’m watching that—  _ oh my god.”  _

Izaya throws open his coat to reveal bright red lingerie. And not just any lingerie,  _ women’s _ , with the bra he doesn’t fill hanging off his skinny chest and the panties he more than fills straining, lace making the whole picture rather obscene. 

“Who’s not putting out  _ now,  _ Shizu-chan? Where are you going?”

 

“Why are you putting him in the sink?”

“It's bath time.” Izaya says simply, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. 

“Isn't that what bathtubs are for?”

“Sure, when you can support your own body weight and don't run the risk of drowning in two inches of water.”

“Why are you using dish soap?”

“You think I’m going to use  _ my _ body wash on a baby? Please.”

 

Shizuo actually likes playing peekaboo and the happy squeals of joy Baby makes when he uncovers his face. It makes something warm and squishy grow in his chest. 

“Keep it down, would you? I’m trying to work.”

“You’re only on some forums.”

“That  _ is  _ work, Shizu-chan. You know what I do.”

 

Baby likes to sleep a lot and Shizuo likes to hold him on his chest, the rise and fall of a little chest and a little heart soothing. 

“You’re surprisingly domestic, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says from his computer. “You cook, you clean, you slobber over everything. It’s like having a dog!”

 

“That’s just like you, Shizu-chan. Brainwashing an innocent child to love you. You had to know we had to give it back, right? That’s what baby-sitting  _ is.  _ Whoa— what are you doing, put me down!” 

“No. We’re making one.”

“That’s  _ impossible,  _ Shizu-chan. Don’t you know?”

“Never know until you try.”


End file.
